Blood Isn't Always Thicker
by swagUPwindowsDOWN
Summary: Than water. Just a few days in and he knows he won't be able to play along with their sadistic game. He isn't their son, he isn't their family and he certainly doesn't want to be there. He's about ready to do anything he can to escape. But then he meets three others who quickly become as important as his real family, and suddenly, he has more incentive to escape than ever.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Wow, I've finally put this story together. It's an idea that I've had for a while and something a little darker than what I usually write. I guess my writing is maturing and I want to tackle this more complex idea and make it the best it can be for you guys.**

 **The title is a play on the phrase 'blood is thicker than water', meaning family is most important and comes first before anything. But obviously, I've said it isn't...a little something for you all to think about.**

 **I'm very grateful to all my readers, and your continued support and patience is so amazing that it really helps me to carry on writing, even when I feel that I'm in a slump. That is why I hope you like this story and hopefully stay with me on the journey it takes.**

 **Therefore, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Blood Isn't Always Thicker!**

* * *

"That one," she said, pointing viscously to the screen, "he's perfect, just perfect. He'll do fine." Her finger jabbed several more times until her husband clicked on the picture to bring it up in full, more zoomed in this time.

"Are you sure?" the man beside her questioned as he read the information beside the picture, whilst she honed in on all of his facial features. "It says he's almost 15. He'll be the oldest we have and I'd say quite a handful. He won't go down as easily as the others did."

"But George," the woman gushed, her fingers remaining on the screen, drawing circles around the face, actually imaging she was faced with the boy in the flesh.

"I mean it, Hilary, he won't be easy. And he plays hockey, so there'll be twice the strength that a normal teenager his size would have. I do agree that he's the one, but are you absolutely sure you can put up with the stress?"

"Of course," she found her husband's hands and clung on to them. Both looked at each other in pure adoration for a precious moment, smiles of joy plastered to their faces. "Don't you remember the first time? That was the most stressful and we got through it. We can do this, George."

"Ok," was the reply and the man was already typing a reply to the email they had received that day with several other pictures included, "I'm just going to email to let Derek know we've found the one. He'll sort everything out from here, just like the rest."

"And soon..." the woman squealed like a girly teenager, excitement exuding from her form.

"Soon we'll have our boy."

* * *

Kendall Knight was a responsible teenager, unlike some. He had to be, what with his little 8-year-old sister to look after when their mother went to work. Katie adored him and wanted him to do everything, like tucking her in at night and making her sandwiches for lunch the next day because he knew exactly how much peanut butter was needed to balance out the jelly.

He also had to maintain at least a B average in all of his subjects if he wanted to continue playing on the school hockey team. He had been told that if he performed well this year, that he would be a strong candidate for team captain the next, and would make the record books as the high school's first sophomore hockey captain. Kendall wanted to be a hockey player when he was older and so making that achievement would certainly mean a lot to him.

In school, he had a group of good friends, people who he could hang out with, but he never really felt like he was 'at home' with them. They were typical boys who talked about sports and the latest video game that allowed people to attack zombies or whatever. They didn't have responsibilities like he did and they didn't take things as seriously. Not that he was really boring, but he liked to get down to working in order to have time to play afterwards. In other words, Kendall drifted from person to person, but never found a fixed place within his circle of friends because they didn't really gel, leaving him feeling dissatisfied and unfulfilled.

He sighed as he walked from his school to Katie's elementary. It was only down the street, a small journey, but it was strangely warm for a February afternoon in Minnesota and he was pleasantly happy that he had no homework to do. Perhaps he'd bake some cookies with Katie because she had been badgering him all week about how she had a huge packet of _M &Ms_ to use up.

As he drew nearer, an unsettling feeling crept up on him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. It was the feeling that you felt when someone was watching, no, staring, at you and he glanced behind inconspicuously to survey his surroundings. Nothing was untoward, just several teenagers walking down the street and parents driving past in cars. He knew most of them because it was a fairly small town, but something seemed different.

There...a man, dressed in a long grey trench coat and sunglasses. Who wore sunglasses in the middle of winter? Sure the sun was very low and made you squint against its brightness sometimes, but sunglasses were a bit extreme. It wasn't anything he had seen before and Kendall regarded himself as a fairly observant person. He may have been just being paranoid, but the mysterious figure was standing at the corner, looking straight down towards him. He could have been looking at anyone, but it seemed like he was singled out amongst the other people around. It just didn't give him a good feeling and he sped up his pace slightly until he was through the gates of the elementary school.

"Kendall!" a voice shrieked happily and he suddenly found his arms full of little sister. She was jumping up and down and had a smudges of red paint over her jeans. She held some sort of marvellous creation in her hands, which was apparently the cause of the paint.

"We got to paint today and I decided to make you a picture! Look!" the piece of paper was thrust unceremoniously into his hands and he turned it round the right way to survey her design. It was a picture of the two of them he guessed, if the yellow fuzz on top of one head was meant to be his hair. Still, he asked questions about several objects flying around them ("Katie, I don't think elephants can fly") and folded it carefully back into her schoolbag, ready to take it out and put it pride of place on his wardrobe door with several others.

The sky turned suddenly and grey cloud started to push out the once blue skies. They quickly made their way out of the gates and down the streets towards their house, hoping to make it back before the rain started. Kendall didn't fancy getting caught in a storm.

It was a freak thing, but Katie suddenly happened to trip slightly on a cracked edge of the sidewalk and her sneakers fell over each other, her body following afterwards. She was ok – Katie had always been a very brave and resilient girl, liking to roughhouse along with the boys rather than playing with dolls – but that was when he saw it. A flash of grey whipping round the corner.

It couldn't be, could it? He continued staring hardly at where he had thought he had seen it, but nothing else happened. Was he being too paranoid? Was he imagining things? A pulse of nervousness flooded through him and he was left with an uncomfortable lump lodged in his throat.

He had Katie with him. Right at this moment he was her guardian, her protector. If anything happened to her it would be his fault, and even though she liked to practice karate moves in the backyard, she wouldn't be able to hold her own against a grown man. But again, was he really panicking over nothing? Whatever it was, if he got out of the area quickly then they would be safe, everything would be ok again.

"Hey, Katie," he thought quickly on his feet, "bet I can get home before you!" hiding his true intentions of getting home fast by making it into a game and Katie wouldn't even notice. No reason to make her scared for something that might be nothing.

Luckily, the 8-year-old didn't bat an eyelid at the remark and instead started running ahead to their house, looking back to see if Kendall was following. Kendall forgot momentarily about the reason for the race, and started chasing her down the street, laughing as she taunted him for being so slow.

The house was soon in their sights, and with a triumphant shout, Katie claimed the victory. She cheered loudly, calling him a slowpoke several times; whilst Kendall tried not to smile and let on that he had in fact let her win. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

He nudged his sister inside and urged her to clean up and change into some new clothes so that the red paint didn't end up on the furniture. He could only imagine their mother coming home to a red couch instead of cream, her mouth opening in shock, before tasking Kendall with the tidy up. He wasn't sure if paint was any worse than crayons (when Katie had started walking, she decided to take an orange crayon with her wherever she went – go figure), but he sure didn't want to find out.

As he turned back to the door, he quickly stepped outside again and looked back and forth down the street. There wasn't anything unusual that he could see, only a few neighbours arriving home or working in their front yards. There was no man in a grey trench coat at all, not even when he squinted his eyes to try and gaze into the distance.

Perhaps he had imagined it all? Maybe he had misinterpreted something completely normal or his mind had made up the situation entirely. The mind doth play tricks. But it seemed so real, and it didn't feel like a coincidence. He stared for a few more minutes, until he finally pulled himself away and closed the door behind him.

Kendall checked the street periodically that night. Several times he pulled back the curtains in the living room to make sure that nothing suspicious was going on outside. He checked that nothing was amiss, if someone was out there that he didn't know...but there was nothing. Every single time no one was to be seen.

After his mom came home, the checks were less frequent and he found himself almost forgetting that anything had happened. He checked one last time before bed, even going as far as to open his window and lean his body out to see down the street that was now almost pitch black, except for the small patches of faint glowing from the street lights. Nothing.

And this finally made Kendall admit defeat. He must have been overreacting. Nothing had happened. It was all in his head and he should just forget about it because otherwise it would eventually take over his life. Things like this didn't happen in their small town, so why was he worried?

Therefore, the next morning only needed one look out of his window before he confirmed to himself that it was just a misinterpretation. And when he went to school later on, all thoughts of the strange man were completely forgotten.

* * *

The phone rung that night, just before he was about to head to bed. He trudged over to the handset and picked up the portable device, bringing it back into the living room with him. All that could be heard over the receiver for a few moments was the sound of slow and heavy breathing.

" _29042001,"_ was spoken gruffly, and from this one utterance he could immediately distinguish the person behind the voice, not knowing anyone else with such a tone.

"Derek," he had been waiting for this call, although he hadn't been expecting it so soon and he was suddenly eager to hear what he had to say.

" _We found him_ ," was the reply, " _managed to get a scope on the school and his house. This kid ain't going anywhere without us knowing."_

"So…so you think that it'll be soon?"

" _A few days, George. We need to suss out what he's all about, see if he has any friends that might protect him, when his family are around – things like that. But like I said, we got tabs on him now."_

"Oh, this is perfect, Derek! It's falling into place so easily. I promise you'll get double on top of what we usually pay you, this is our last one after all."

A chuckle escaped the man on the other side. _"No need, George. You and Hills have been good friends since we were kids ourselves. Speaking of which, how is that bird of yours?"_

"She's very excited. Been preparing the house for the arrival and everything already."

" _And the others? Have they behaved themselves? Giving you no nonsense, I hope."_

"Oh yes, they've been very good this past week, like angels. I think they can sense something's happening. And of course not, you know Hilary and I always stop that sort of behaviour the moment it arises, and we do not tread lightly, may I add."

" _Good, good. I'm really glad this has worked out for you, mate. You both needed this."_

Derek genuinely meant this. They deserved what he could give them and through his line of work he could make their dreams literally come true. They were now so happy, living the life that they had always wanted, and he was happy that he could be a part of that in some way.

" _Hey, maybe once this new one's settled in, I'll come up and spend a long weekend with you. A little visit from Uncle Derek."_

"Yes, yes, definitely. You're always welcome here. That'd be lovely."

" _Well,"_ Derek sighed deeply, looking at the clock on the wall of the motel he was currently shacked up in. " _I'd best be getting off. Hafta wake up at five a.m. tomorrow to stake out this boy you've got your sights on. The things I do for you."_

"And we really do appreciate it," George replied earnestly, "goodnight, Derek."

" _G'night, George."_

* * *

George headed to bed quite soon after the phone call, feeling quite content in himself, so much so that he bounced up the staircase two steps at a time. He quickly got ready for bed, shredding his day clothes for pyjamas and washing up in the en-suite bathroom joined to their master bedroom.

As he got into bed, his wife, who had previously been lying on her back, rolled over on to her side so that she was facing him.

"Did I hear you on the phone?" she asked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else in the household.

"Yes, dear," George replied. Really, he had wanted to surprise her in the morning, make a big thing of the fact that Derek had been able to find their boy so quickly, but he supposed that now was as good as ever. "He's found him."

"Oh!" Hilary cried, only slightly louder than the original volume she had started out in, always aware of the others. She flung her arms around him, squeezing tightly. "This is marvellous! And all so soon. Oh, George, this is such a blessing."

"It's all falling into place so nicely, isn't it? Much better than any of the other ones went."

"I can't wait for the day we finally get to meet him," Hilary commented, a blissful smile on her face.

"Soon, darling. Not too long to wait now."

Both fell asleep effortlessly that night with smiles on their faces, entwined in each other's arms and dreaming of the day when everything would finally come together. Both oblivious to anything else but the quiet abyss of sleep.

* * *

Outside in the hallway lay several other doors, each with a solid iron padlock on the handle, keeping anything from getting in or out.

And behind each door could be heard the muffled sounds of quiet, yet heart-breaking sobs.

* * *

 **So...what is in store for Kendall? Who are this creepy couple? I guess you'll have to wait and see.**

 **I am honoured by any reviews that you leave and love reading them, so please don't forget to tell me what you think!**

 **~swagUPwindowsDOWN :) x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Another chapter is upon us!**

 **I'm very sorry for taking longer than I anticipated to update, but my computer decided that it was the perfect time to break. It obviously thought it could work without a mouse, so I had to wait for it to be repaired. But now I'm here with another update and I'm so excited to get this out to you all.**

 **The response in all of your reviews has been amazing to see. This story is out of my normal comfort zone, so to see that you all really like it is such a relief and inspiring for me. Thank you all.** **Therefore, I hope you enjoy the second chapter of Blood Isn't Always Thicker!**

* * *

It had only been a few days, three, to be exact, since the strange happenings, but already the man in the grey trench coat had slipped Kendall's mind, and he had forgotten that he had even been worried that someone could have been following him. It wasn't that anything bad had happened because of it.

"Kendall Knight, please come to the principal's office. Kendall Knight, you are wanted in the principal's office."

All of Kendall's English class whipped around after the intercom made its presence clear, their eyes glinting as some giggled, whilst others started an echo of "ooooh," as if they were watching a fight at a boxing club instead of someone simply packing up their school bag on their way to the principal.

It wasn't as if Kendall was a mischievous or deviant teenager. He'd had detentions before, sure, but he always made an effort to stay out of those situations as much as he could, because sitting next to the Denval twins, who commenced a tug of war over him and left black and blue fingerprints over his arms for weeks, was not his idea of fun.

He could only really remember going to the principal for discrepancies a few times. Once, in 4th grade, when an April fool's day prank on his teacher had gone astoundingly wrong (green hair wasn't the best fashion trend on record), and another for bringing his worm collection in to school for show and tell, and even though that wasn't an offence – the other boys in his class had been really interested in them – when he and his friends began to play a game of catch with the creepy crawlies, a few of the girls took an aversion to having worms land in their pristine ringlets.

The only other times he had been sent to the principal were in good incidences, for awards or other such things, so as he left the classroom; he hoped that it would be because of a similar reason, rather than something else.

Their principal was rather young. He wasn't some old, balding man who spent his weekends playing golf, but a black-haired, blue-eyed thirty-something who had graduated early with complete honours and worked hard until he was at the top of the teaching hierarchy. Mr. Samuels had originally taught drama before making his way to headship, and the charisma derived from this made him incredibly easy to approach if you had a problem or needed to talk. He was the kind of person who always kept an open-door policy, no matter what the time of day.

"Ah Kendall," the man smiled cheerfully as the blonde entered the spacious office, adorned with a mahogany desk and a few plush, charcoal chairs lined up behind it. Towards the back of the room were two sofas in the same shade as the chairs, with a coffee table in-between, for less formal matters, and dotted around the room were various cabinets and bookshelves.

Today, however, another man sat in a chair behind the principal's desk. He looked older than the principal, but still appeared to have not reached forty quite yet. This man had wispy locks of caramel layered over a well-chiselled and contoured face, one that Kendall would have thought belonged to a labourer, which is why he was surprised when Mr. Samuels introduced him as a school inspector, specialising in student satisfaction, safety and well-being.

"Mr Landon would like to talk to you about your extracurricular activities, Kendall, being that you are one of our most promising young hockey stars and also maintain excellent grades. Is that alright?"

Kendall nodded. He was always happy to help out, and with his confirmation they moved over to the sofas at the back of the room. Kendall sat on one sofa, with this new Mr. Landon occupying the one next to him. Mr. Samuels pushed himself out from his desk in his leather computer chair, and wheeled himself along, dragging his legs and pushing his body so that he ended up in front of them. It was a rather bizarre performance, but that was Mr. Samuels, always full of surprises.

"Good morning to you, Kendall. I am Mr. Landon and like Mr. Samuels has already told you, I am here simply to assess this school with the students' best interests at heart. I'll only need to ask a few questions, so this shouldn't take too long."

Mr. Landon stretched out his hand as he spoke and Kendall met him half way. The handshake was rough and the other man held entirely too firm for his liking. By the time he had shaken Kendall's poor arm into Jell-O, he quickly withdrew when it was released.

"Right, so I understand you play hockey, yes? Could you tell me a little more about that?"

"I'm right wing for our school team, and I've been a part of that team since I started this school, but I've been playing outside of school ever since I was five."

"And would you say that school provides well for your team? Resources such as kit, transport to games and such?"

"Yes, definitely. Our coach always says that if the players aren't happy then we can't get our heads in the game and perform to the best of our ability. We'll travel on the school bus to games and our kit is always updated if need be. For example, one of our defensemen tore his shirt open and they replaced it within the next few days-"

"And you said you played hockey outside of school?"

Kendall wasn't too annoyed at the interruption, but he thought the question was slightly odd. Why would the school inspector be interested in something he did outside of school? It's not like he could go and check up on the local ice rink and then put that in his report. But he figured that it was because it was all linked, and he just wanted to understand him as a person better before including his answers in his results.

"Yeah, I'm on the local team as well. We practice at the local ice rink in town."

"And where is that located?" Mr. Landon asked. He had been writing all the answers down on a clipboard, and from what Kendall could see they were mostly in note form that he would supposedly write up properly at a later date, when he was putting all of his findings together. However, at this question, he gripped the pen tighter and looked keenly into Kendall's eyes.

"Um...it's just off Woodgrove Avenue, near the movie theatre. Do you know where that is?"

"Ah yes, that modern building with all the glass at the front? It must be nice practicing there after school."

"Yeah it is a cool place, but we actually practice in the evening after dinner. It's not as busy around that time and often we can drag out practice a little longer if we have a game that weekend."

The inspector chuckled. "Well, I hope you're not there too late. One thing I see far too much as a school inspector is kids who are sleep-deprived. No sleep leads to less attention during lessons and then poor grades at the end of the year. I hope you aren't one of those students, Kendall."

"Oh no," Kendall reassured, "practice finishes at half eight, nine when we have games coming up. I always make sure I'm not home too late because sometimes my mom likes to go to the gym and I have to look after my little sister."

"Ok Kendall," the inspector said after finishing jotting down his last answer, which Kendall also realised, but quickly dismissed, that like the last few, weren't so much in note form as the others, "that's all the questions I have for you. You can head back to class now. And good luck with your next hockey game, whenever that might be."

Kendall politely said goodbye, before making his way back to his class. Looking at his watch, there was only about ten minutes left until next period started. As he had missed the majority of the second half of the class, he decided to make a quick bathroom stop before going back and finding out what he missed.

He was just finishing up washing his hands when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. No one else was out of class just yet, so he assumed that it was a teacher or one of the school janitors. As he exited, he caught sight of the back of the school inspector, making his way out of the school.

The blonde was about to call out, there was a quicker way out of the school, after all, but something made him stop dead, his blood running cold. He watched the school inspector continue to make his way down the hallway, strides long and confident, clipboard just barely peeking out of his blue leather messenger bag. All seemed normal, until he pulled something out of the bag.

It was cool outside and people couldn't get away without a few layers on them at least. Perhaps that was why the man pulled out his coat and put it on, to keep out the icy breeze and protect him from the elements? That wasn't a problem, not at all. But Kendall remained frozen as the supposed inspector rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

Why?

Kendall had watched as he pulled his coat out of his bag. His grey trench coat.

The same one that was following him.

* * *

"This is set out to be one of the easiest grab and go's we've ever pulled off. The school, great security methods and all, fully believed my badge and let me onto the premises as a school inspector."

"School inspector?" the man next to him snorted. He was one of the three goons that Derek had hired to help out with the dirty work. All of them were way over six feet and all had arms the size of watermelons, which came in very handy whenever a potential victim became too rowdy for their own good. You'd think that they'd accept their fate, but no. Never could they realise that, not only were they outnumbered, but that Derek and his men had many other tricks up their sleeve in case something didn't go to plan. Last time he checked, they had back up plans all the way down the alphabet.

"Yeah, not one of your most high-end disguises, D," another chimed in, though they knew not to laugh too much otherwise their boss would become irate, and that was never pretty.

"It got the job done. Kid played right into my hands. 'Oh', I said, 'you do hockey outside of school? Where?' and he told me. Even let me know when he practiced without me even probing a little. These 14-year-olds aren't as smart as they used to be these days."

"Are we jumping him tonight then?" The third goon asked. He was the one who had been to prison for putting a guy in the hospital. He was quiet, speaking softly despite being the largest there. It was an excellent quality to have, because pretty soon after meeting, that soft, quiet voice would haunt your nightmares if you were on the wrong end of it.

"No," Derek stated, mulling over his plan in his mind, "it'd be too soon. If the kid even so much as saw me at the end of the road he'd be suspicious. Why would his school inspector stick around? That'd raise questions. No, we wait a few more days, figure out his family first."

"The little lady goes to soccer practice on Thursdays if that helps," the second commented, "I heard her talking about try-outs for team captain when I was trailing her today."

"Well, perhaps the school inspector will have to pay the elementary a visit also and speak with a certain Katie Knight, since her brother really aided the investigations into student safety," Derek laughed heartily at his joke, three others joining as they got into a dark van with tinted windows and drove off towards their motel.

* * *

Kendall panted heavily as he slammed the door behind him. Katie was at a friend's house until six that night, so it was just him until his mom came home. He wiped a hand down his face, smudging sweaty grease along his hand.

He had run home after school finished. He didn't want to risk anyone following him again, and even though he couldn't see the grey trench coat, didn't mean the guy wasn't there. This was just getting way to creepy for his liking and he didn't know what to do. He felt like a little boy again, whose mom solved all the problems for him and made everything alright, but she couldn't do that now.

He toyed with telling her. But then what would he say? Telling her that someone was following him would probably sound crazy, and even if she believed him, he had no proof to show that he was. They couldn't go to the police or anything, because other than his word, there was nothing else to go on.

He was stuck.

The brief thought that it was a mere coincidence again crossed his mind, but this time he dismissed it quicker than the thought was even finished. He had fully accepted now that it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him.

Someone was actually following him.

You only saw these things in the movies, and in the news. Just a few weeks ago, a report had been on the news detailing missing children. For one, a James-something, he had officially been missing a year and his parents had been on to make another appeal on the important anniversary. Several other children's images had flashed upon the screen, the police telling audiences that if they thought they knew anything, anything at all, to please contact them. It sounded like they were desperate. A lost cause.

But he didn't know why someone would follow him. A lot of the time, it was because people had secret vendettas against the family or wanted to get revenge. Yes, sometimes it was random, but Kendall didn't believe that the majority of stalkings were random. There had to be some kind of ulterior motive to why he was being stalked.

He was being stalked. Oh goodness.

Kendall didn't sleep much that night. He was too afraid, too on-edge. Any minute something could happen and it kept him jumpy and panicky all night. Every little sound, outside or in, he would sit up in bed, stock still, and listen out to see if someone was breaking in. It was awful and he had never felt more frightened in his life.

And he would never admit this if anyone asked, but he may have cried, and quite a lot at that.

* * *

The important phone call came at exactly 1:35pm the next day. George picked it up and grinned as he heard the message.

" _Thursday. It's on._ "

* * *

 **Oooooo Kendall knows he's in danger, but I don't think he realises how much! Next chapter should be exciting!**

 **Thank you again for the reviews. Any kind of comment, follow or favourite really helps me to keep writing and I love your support.**

 **Until next time,**

 **swagUPwindowsDOWN :) x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! I'm very sorry for taking a long time to get this next chapter up, but I've been extremely busy over the last few weeks. However, I'm motivated and eager to get this fic progressing, so hopefully it shouldn't take so long in future.**

 **Thank you for all the reviews so far, it's great to see what you all think!**

 **Here's chapter three!**

* * *

"So it seems that the security cameras to the ice rink are located here, here and here," Derek drew several marks on a piece of paper with a crudely drawn map on its face, each mark taking a spot around the square block that represented the sports centre. "Whoever made the decision about these locations wasn't the brightest of sparks. It leaves a blind spot on the north facing side, which just so happens to be where the doors that the team vacates from are situated. If we mind ourselves on our left, going in at angle of around 45 degrees, then we should get away without being spotted."

"And the van? Would you like it down the nearer residential streets or further away, boss?"

"Not in the nearest streets. From researching the area, there are several streets with small corner stores or grocers. All of these will have some form of camera-based security at some point, and we don't have time to search out each and every one. If we follow our mark further into the quieter areas that he lives in and make our move there, we won't be seen. Park the van on Alverson Blvd."

"You got it, boss."

* * *

 _"_ _I have a visual,"_ was the message that came down the mobile. The sound of heavy breathing crackled through the receiver as the individual proceeded on foot after its target. One of his men was following the mark several yards behind to make sure that he didn't divert from his usual path home. Derek himself and his two other goons sat in a large, black van with tinted windows so that nobody would be able to see the precious cargo within.

"Keep following. If he decides to take a detour, block him off. It doesn't matter if he sees you from this point onwards." They had recently entered an area where there were fewer houses and so no places that would capture their images, or worse, their faces, on CCTV. They parked up and waited eagerly as everything fell nicely into place.

* * *

Kendall walked along the sidewalk with a spring in his step. Earlier during practice he had been on fire. Quickest lap around the rink, no pucks past when he practiced his defence and most slap shots into the back of the net; things couldn't be any better than they were right now. He was on top of his a-game and his coach had hinted more than once that week that he was a definite shoe-in for captain next year, something that Kendall had only dreamed of happening.

He hummed a little tune to himself as he walked, something he had been working on at home in his free time. Only his mother and his sister knew he could play the guitar and enjoyed singing along to it. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his craft – they're were loads of males in the music industry nowadays – he just didn't think that it was an art that his particular group of friends would appreciate. They were all the 'come home from school and play video games' type of guys, and the only music he could recall them listening to was rap anyway. It was a secret he would have to keep to himself.

Suddenly, a sound made him cut off halfway through the second verse. It wasn't anything really loud and he would have missed it if it hadn't of been so close, but it was there. Now, it wasn't too late in the evening, but it was dark and he hadn't really seen many people out that night, which immediately raised his awareness levels. Someone was behind him, and although that person could have been completely innocent, he listened harder to his surroundings and subtly picked up his pace.

The thing was, as he listened more intently, he could also hear the quickening of footsteps which meant that the person was trying to match his new walking tempo. A shiver of icy fear ran from the tip of his forehead all the way down to his toes, reverberating off of his shoulders and spine. This wasn't good, this definitely wasn't good.

As a high school student, he was familiar with the lesson of not talking to strangers and what to do if you were in trouble. Brief flashes of information streamed through his mind and he remembered that he would have to shout "fire!" rather than "help!", because in this warped world people would respond more to the former and not the latter. He needed to stay calm and collected-

The footsteps quickened again until he could hear the figure's harsh, yet controlled breaths and smell an overpowering stench of fishy body odour mixed with cigarette smoke. All thoughts of remaining calm and collected went out of the window and Kendall started to run. He had to get out of there and get home, get away from his recently acquired stalker and find some help.

He was a small and frightened animal, like a wild rabbit scarpering and hiding from its hunter. It was fight or flight, and Kendall had chosen to flee.

* * *

The heavyweight following the blonde teenager slowed slightly as he saw the mark start to speed away, giving enough distance before he pressed the number 1 on his speed dial and waited for the answering grunt on the other end.

"He's running," was all he mentioned, knowing it would be enough to get his point across. He waited silently for his directions.

"He heading our way? No detours available?"

"None, boss, he's heading home. He'll end up right alongside you."

"Ok," Derek grinned as sensed that everything was falling into place. He honestly thought that this boy would have been harder and not as easily rattled, but you should never read a book its cover. He supposed it meant less work for him, but he was slightly disappointed that there had been no gritty or bloody action this time. It was what made the job more exciting.

"Boss?"

"Hold on, dimwit, or do you need me to listen for you as well as deciding your every move?"

Silence was his only answer. That told him all he needed to know.

Derek sighed. "Pick up your pace. Once you're close enough to the kid, start running, make it look like you're going to attack…but don't. Remember, he has to run towards our van."

* * *

 _Left. Right. Left. Right. Breathe. Left. Right. Check behind shoulder. Breathe. Left. Right._

Kendall didn't know how long he had been running, or how long the man had been in pursuit of him. What he definitely did know was that this man really was following him and trying to catch him, which was _not_ good.

He had never been more afraid before than in that moment, especially when the determined follower had also broken into a run. Kendall was lucky it seemed as though the man's heavy body weighed him down so that he was plodding rather than striding and unable to reach his own speed.

Fumbling around in his pockets, his fingers latched onto a slim, smooth device. He quickly pulled it out and typed in his password. He was very glad that his mom always made him take his mobile with him whenever he left the house, even if he were only going down the street. It was a very good idea, thinking about it now in this frightening situation. Moms always had the best ideas.

However, just as he was scrolling through his contacts – he was on the letter J and he really wished he had thought more about speed dial – he turned down a street that had a black van pulled over, its engine ticking and exhaust blowing dirty fumes out into the air.

This was just what he needed. Someone that he could tell about his circumstances, but who wasn't in a house, which would have meant having to knock on doors and wait for a resident to answer. That in itself would take time, and thus give the man behind an advantage to catch up and take him before anyone came to the door, and that was if anyone was in at the houses he tried anyway. It seemed luck was even more on his side as he recognised the face behind the wheel.

"Mr. Landon?"

The man in question peered out of the open window and blinked a few times, just staring stoically at the blonde's face. Kendall looked back down the street, relieved to see that the man hadn't caught up to him yet and quickly started to blurt out the events unfolding.

"Sir, I really need your help. There's a man, he's following me and he'll catch up sooner or later. I need to call the police, and my mom and- "

"Hey, it's alright, son. I'll help you out. Was only trying to find some directions out of here anyway. How's about you get in the van with me so you'll be safe from this person and we can call the cops and anyone else. It's ok now."

Kendall sighed in relief, his posture physically relaxing as he realised that his torment was soon going to be over and he could put all of this behind him. The adrenaline caused had really started to wear on him after a while. The school inspector opened the door and jumped out, then closed the door behind him again.

"I'm sorry, but the seats in the back only have access through the back doors, a fault of these older models," he chuckled to himself, "if you'll come around with me then," Mr. Landon instructed Kendall as he placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder and guided him round to the back entrance. Kendall shifted slightly under the man's firm grip, being very tight for just a friendly helping hand.

In fact, he even looked at it for a moment, just to see if the man was tearing through his shirt – it was a _strong_ grip – when he noticed the arm attached to the hand…and the grey trench coat covering it.

How could have he forgot? How could he have trusted this man without remembering the events prior to this day. How could he-

But it was too late.

Suddenly, as if the motion had been rehearsed, the back doors of the van were flung open, just barely avoiding clipping Kendall on the forehead. Two more pairs of hands grabbed at his arms and the front of his shirt as Mr. Landon pushed from behind and he stumbled over into the van, landing harshly on his knees. He scrambled to get up, but the doors were forcefully closed again and Mr. Landon got back up front again, this time in the passenger seat as another, bulkier man got in to drive. His pursuer from earlier.

Swiftly, he was turned around and he felt rope coil around his wrists, pulling them roughly together and digging into his skin once several knots were tied. He was then turned back around, at which point he was shouting to anyone outside to come and help him, because he really was in danger now. The two other thugs in the back tied his ankles up as well, and then started to prepare something which he couldn't see.

He heard chuckling up front as the engine roared as the third gorilla-like man stepped on the gas and they started to speed away along the streets.

"Can't believe you fell for that, kid. You guys sure aren't as smart these days as we were."

"Mr. Landon- "

"Still calling me by that? Ha! School inspector, my ass," the man turned in his seat to face the captive, a crooked grin splattered all over his face, "Kendall, this is the real world. I'm no daft school inspector. Do you really still think that? You really are more stupid than I thought."

"But- "

"Save your words, sunshine, you'll need your voice where you're going. My clients have been indulging themselves over it from those recordings I sent them. No, you just worry about having a nice little nap."

"What?" but before Kendall could do anything more, he realised that the criminals in the corner had finished with their handwork and were proceeding towards him. He tried to fight them and push them off, but it was useless when he was both outnumbered and tied up. One beefeater beefy thug clasped his arms around the teenager's torso and pulled him back to his chest, effectively restraining him, whilst the other used one hand to shove his head up and towards him as he pressed a dirty cloth over his mouth and nose.

Kendall had seen this sort of thing in movies and he struggled against his restraints because he knew that the chloroform would only knock him out if he didn't. It was to no avail. He could smell the sickly sweet smell drifting up through his nostrils and no matter how hard he tried, he could not hold his breath long enough. Eventually, he had to inhale the substance, which immediately made him feel lightheaded and weak. He breathed in again as the van's interior started to spin out of control and made him feel dizzily sick.

Confusion settled in as he started to lose his senses and all orientation. Where was he? What was happening? Why was he here?

His world spun once more, before he felt darkness setting in, threatening to whisk him off into its unconscious abyss and the last thing he heard before being swept away was the leader's voice:

"Have sweet dreams, kid…you're gonna need them."

* * *

 **Ooooooh! It's getting more intense! What do you guys think? How's it sound to you?**

 **I'll see you next chapter. Don't forget to favourite and review!**

 **~swagUPwindowsDOWN :) x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello my lovely readers. It has been far too long and for that I can only apologise. Too many things have happened and then I come around to the realisation that it's taken me over six months to write this chapter, and something suddenly clicks. Then, all the problems I've been having with working out this chapter disappear and I'm back with another update - finally!**

 **Thank you so much to those who have been reading, reviewing, following and liking even though I haven't been updating. It's great to see the support even when I haven't written in a while.**

 **Warning for a few curse words in this chapter.**

 **Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the next chapter of Blood Isn't Always Thicker :)**

* * *

Kendall grumbled to himself as his bed rumbled and shook beneath him. He presumed it was his sister jumping on his bed, trying to get him to wake up because he had overslept and missed his alarm…again. It was a shame, really, because he had been in a really peaceful slumber, down in the depths of unconsciousness for what felt like hours on end which was something he hadn't experienced for quite a while due to all the pressures of school and hockey. Such worries could have him waking up several times a night and it all added up.

He sighed. And now he had to wake up for school.

Sometimes he wished that school didn't exist. That, somehow, you just learnt everything that you needed to know in due course throughout your life from your parents or friends. Or, even if that weren't possible, because it really couldn't be, he wished that school didn't have to last the whole week. Perhaps they could get Wednesday off, he mused, as he felt the shaking turn into slightly harsher bumping and jolting. That way, the week could be broken up and so fund a refuge of sorts for all of the students.

He had also, on a few occasions, given thought to the possibilities of a long weekend, adding Monday into the already scheduled days off, because, come on, who likes Mondays? But now, thinking about it, whilst his sister wouldn't give up trying to pummel him awake for school, he realised that that would mean Tuesday would become the start of the week, and so end up feeling just like a Monday did. A never-ending cycle. Maybe the extra day off should change every week, so that alternate days were missed. That would mean-

"Gah! You bulging oaf! For fuck's sake, can't you drive a little more carefully? This ain't some friggin' fair ground ride!"

"I'm sorry, boss, but I wasn't the one who wanted to turn off the freeway so soon."

"Who do you think you're talking to, grizzly? As you just proved, I am the one who calls all of the shots around here, including whether or not you still have a job tomorrow morning. Now, we couldn't just stay out in open view the whole time, you idiot. Unless you want to be caught by the cops or something. And I certainly won't hesitate to leave you half dead in a ditch either. So, do you want any of that? Are you going to question my authority again?"

"N-No, boss, sorry, boss."

"Just as I thought. Well then, drive more carefully, Forrest Grove is coming up soon and we don't want to miss our turn off."

Suddenly, a huge bump jerked Kendall up and into the air, only for him to come down with a crash to the hard metal floor. His eyes now open, he realised that he wasn't in his comfortable and warm bed at home with his sister jumping on top of him.

No, instead, he was inside a nightmare.

Suddenly, all the wishing he had been doing about days off from school and not having to attend vanished in a heartbeat. He would gratefully take it back, take it all back, if he could only switch the situation he was in at the moment. He would give all he had, even give up hockey, to be home and safe again. But no matter what he did he couldn't escape. He tried pinching his arm in case he was dreaming, and then when that didn't work he tried scrunching his eyes closed as tight as they would go whilst holding his breath. Yet, all he was met with when he opened them again was the sounds of the cackling from the men opposite him.

"This ain't no dream, blondie," one of the goons bellowed, and Kendall was slightly disturbed at how well they had read his mind.

"W-where are you t-taking m-me?" he asked, cursing at the stutter held in his raspy tone. He could really do with a drink of water to soothe his sore throat, but he wasn't going to ask these monsters. For all he knew they could poison him and watch him die a slow and painful death. However, was that really much worse than the situation he was in right now?

The leader, Mr. Landon…or whoever he actually was, smirked at him from across the van. He looked far more intelligent than the others, which was why Kendall suspected that he was the ring leader. To be honest, he was the one who scared him the most, even though the others all had muscle mass and height on him in heaps and bounds. This man had single-handedly thought up the plan to kidnap him and possibly many others before that. Brains beat brawn any day and coupled with his evil personality, this man was more of a danger to him than any of his goons.

"Oh, that doesn't matter right now, boy. What matters is that we get you delivered safe and sound…and then comes payday."

Ok, so that meant they were working for someone else. Surely, if they were doing the dirty work and 'delivering' him, whatever that meant, they had to be the employees and not the employers. But who were they working for? Images of black market slave rings came to the forefront of his mind and he shuddered both internally and out.

"Who-?"

"Who wants you?" Mr. Landon-come-whatever-his-name-was interrupted, raising an eyebrow, "your new family, boy, one that has been waiting a _very_ long time to get their hands on you."

Kendall balked. He had no idea what he had meant by 'new family' but he certainly didn't need one. It just cemented the fact that he had been kidnapped all the more. What sort of people wanted to take children from their homes just to use them for whatever use they saw fit? Who searched for children to kidnap? It made him feel physically sick thinking that these kind of people existed in the world.

He was pretty much silent after that, lost in his own little world of shock and terror. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. Sitting in front of the TV he had never imagined all those faces – that James guy, or the one named Carlos – would someday be one of himself. There was a disconnect with those sort of things, or meant to be at least, but now it was real, very real indeed.

* * *

"Forrest Grove Avenue, right boss?" came a muffled question that Kendall barely registered amongst his jumbled thoughts.

"That's the one, last house along the way. Here that, boy? You're finally home," the boss chuckled to himself at the misery he saw on his captive's face, delighted that he had the power to literally turn someone's world upside down in only a few hours. It made him feel superior; he practically had fate in one hand and destiny in the other and it only made him hungry for the next victim on the roster. However, this would be all for this one. This family was now complete.

The van stopped. It was only then that Kendall brought himself out of his reverie and took a deep breath to prepare for what was waiting on the outside. The doors to the back of the vehicle were flung open, and bright daylight assaulted Kendall's retinas, almost too intense for him to see properly after being locked in a dark van for hours on end.

There was no knocking or ringing of the doorbell to ask for entrance at this house. Kendall was shoved out of the back of the van, hands tied behind his back, eliciting a painful yelp as his cramped-up muscles were tugged at too hard. He tried to make a run for it, but two meaty paws gripped onto his shoulders hard enough that the momentum carried him forward, and without anything to help him balance, he was left to faceplant onto the gravel of the driveway. Little bits of grit dug into his neck and chest as he scrambled for some sort of purchase in order to get up, but that task was done for him, as he was hauled roughly to his feet again, leaving him wavering dizzily in front of his captors.

It was a modest sized house. Not a mansion by far, but bigger than most family abodes. The building was even quite attractive. A large bay window on each side and a small extension added to the right made for a big residence. The front was clad with stone bricks and the window frames painted an oak brown so that it blended in with the woodland in the background, if the numerous tall trees and the smell of wet grass meant anything. The driveway wound down from a large brown door, housing two cars and a detached double garage. If anything, this would be the type of house Kendall would want to live in when he was older and had a family of his own. That was before he was kidnapped and taken here, however, and now his future plans were anything but.

Again, he was dragged right up to the front door, and Mr. Landon fiddled with a silver box that had been fixed next to the door, around where a doorbell should have been. Opened up, it revealed a touchpad with the numbers 0 to 9 displayed, and Kendall was turned around before he could get a glimpse of the passkey. They weren't so stupid after all.

The door released its locks with several large clunks, suggesting that this particular home security system was wired up to the gills. For a good reason, too, if they were receiving a kidnapped kid. It slid open automatically, and whilst Kendall thought he would then be left looking into the house, he was instead met with the sight of another door a little way down, identical to the first. On the wall just before this new door were several round circles fixed into the walls on both sides, all parallel with another. Between each was a gap of around 6 inches, and they went all the way from the ceiling to the floor. If you listened closely enough, there was a faint buzzing sound.

Lasers.

Like in all of those spy movies, this house looked to be equipped with invisible lasers that, when disturbed, would alert the owner, presumably with a loud alarm of some sort. If Kendall thought that he would be able to get out easily, he would have been incredibly delusional.

Another key pad, like the one previous, was tapped into, and again Kendall was kept from the numbers. The lasers were thus deactivated and this time when the door opened, they were met with a hallway, long and narrow at first, until it opened up into a nicely sized reception hall. He was quickly stripped of his shoes, one of the muscle men tugging them off one by one. As the last came off, he managed to swiftly fling one of his socked feet up, right into the face of the one taking the sneakers off.

Direct hit, an upper cut right where the nose meets forehead, and everyone in close proximity heard an easily decipherable crack of a bone. The goon's hands immediately went to his face, his previous task forgotten in favour of tending to his newly acquired injury, and also his broken pride, if the glare being sent his way was anything to go by. Blood gushed downwards, collecting in his cupid's bow, until it dripped over and onto the floor like the pitter patter of tiny rain drops.

"Why you little- "

The man on the floor pushed himself up and lunged at Kendall, gripping the front of his shirt so hard that the blonde thought it would rip. His eyes widened as he watched the man's fist pull back, ready to implement a knock-out blow of his own no doubt. He tried to struggle free of the grip, but it was no use and the only thing he could do was to scrunch his eyes up and wait for the hit to come.

"Keep your hands off of our son!"

* * *

The voice was new and unfamiliar, but whoever it belonged to had enough power to make the goon let him go. He opened his eyes to see a man and a woman standing by the door that they had just come out of. They were both middle-aged, but not too old and certainly well-aged considering the lack of wrinkles.

The man, tall and at least six-foot, possessed greying blonde locks, the silver tints weaving through like snakes where they met at the back of his head in a mass patch in which all colour had faded out. He had a toned and well-maintained physique which made Kendall question his ability to escape if he should ever manage to get a hold on him.

The woman who stood next to him was only around average size for a lady, so that Kendall wouldn't have to look up too much if he were speaking to her, and had a small and sharp figure. Her chin was that spiked that it would probably cut through skin, and her arms jutted out of her shoulders at a grotesque angle much like a raven with talons. She wore glasses and her own hair was clearly dyed brown to cover up her own maturing tresses.

"Derek, I would greatly appreciate it if you were to call all of your men off of my boy. Sooner rather than later, if you would."

It was the woman who had spoken, in a voice which was sweet and civil on the surface, yet held a dark and firm undertone that exuded authority. It was clear she was someone who was not to be double crossed and Kendall wondered if maybe he had assumed wrong. Perhaps she wore the trousers in the relationship.

Derek, it turned out, was the Mr. Landon conman. Kendall watched as the statement was directed at him, causing his eyes to flick between the couple and then his goons.

"Are you sure that you can handle this boy? He's got some fight in him," Derek asked them in a tone that was timider than when he had been ordering his men about before.

The woman in front of him sighed irritatedly, like she couldn't be bothered with the conversation she was having, and motioned her hand to the closest door on the right.

"Fine, if it will please you that much just get him into the living room. Our patience is wearing thin with you and your men, Derek, and I'm sure you do not wish to see a deduction in the amount we have agreed to pay you."

At the mention of money, it was like a trigger had been pulled, and Kendall found himself swiftly in Derek's arms this time, but it happened so quickly that he didn't realise what was happening before he had been unceremoniously dumped on a sofa. The door clicked shut with the sound of a lock and he realised that he had been trapped in the room with no way of getting out. He could hear faint murmurings on the other side of the door, but even if he pressed his ear up to it he couldn't decipher anything. The soundproofing in this house was above average, and he could certainly begin to tell why.

Looking around the room he was in found it to be spacious and large. There were three couches, the material a soft blue with white swirls and the arms draped with royal blue woollen blankets, supposedly for chillier nights. Across from one of the couches was a flat-screen TV placed on a wooden stand. The piece itself had a draw and three small cubicles for storage. There were a few DVDs lined in one of the compartments but as Kendall pulled some out, he was confused. They weren't the sort of material that you would have thought an older couple would have been watching. He was absolutely certain that they wouldn't favour the likes of _Paw Patrol_ , _Thomas the Train_ or _Bob the Builder._

Did that mean that this couple had young children?

He couldn't imagine what it would be like for your parents to be psychotic lunatics, but perhaps the children were exactly the same and wouldn't bat an eyelid at a new presence suddenly turning up in their household. Maybe they were in on it. Maybe they wanted him as much as their parents did.

His eyes scouted the rest of the living room and didn't find anything else of much use. There was a bookcase down the far end – again, who would want to read Dr. Seuss stories and books with _Elmo_ except children? – and a side table with various items such as a small vase with blood red roses in and some sculptures that looked to be moulded messily out of clay. A child's work again, he guessed.

Big French doors were fitted at the end of the room, letting in an abundance of light and showing views of the expansive rear garden. There was a small sandpit and a swing set, as well as a pool off to the side with an inflatable modelled on a crocodile floating across the surface on its own.

Definitely kids.

Yet, despite all the evidence that was pointing towards at least one child living in the household, based on this one room alone, there wasn't a feeling of a home. It was lived in, sure, but there was still an icy mist seeping in around the edges, sucking the warmth and happiness that flooded in through the doors away.

Kendall was cut off from his musings when the door swung open. The couple stood in the doorway, though he could still see the other men lurking behind them, so he didn't try anything on them. He would lose in an instant like this.

"Derek, tell your men that their job is done here and that they can go now. I would guess you would like to visit the others being it's been so long since the last time?"

"Oh yes, I'm always up to pay a visit. Where are the monsters?"

"The eldest two are in the playroom. Morning naps call for babies to be in their cribs. Oh, and don't mess around too much. I hated having to clean the paint out of the carpet the last time."

Derek practically ran out of the room with a smile filled with harsh glee on his face and the other men took their exit, leaving Kendall alone with these two people who had ordered his kidnapping. They came into the room and sat down on the couch closest to him, but not before the man locked the door behind them.

Kendall didn't dare move from his place in the middle of the room, and for a few minutes they simply angled him with level stares until one spoke.

"Kendall, son, I think you should sit down where you are and listen to what we have to tell you. It might be hard hearing what we have to say at first, but I trust you'll adjust quickly." It was the man who had spoken first, his eyes narrowing when Kendall chose to keep standing even after he waited a while to see if the boy would follow through on his request, but nothing happened.

"Kendall," this time it was the wife, "we ask you things only once. If you do not follow through then we will use whatever means necessary to get the task done. Am I clear?"

Kendall remained standing defiantly, staring into their cold eyes, disobeying, challenging.

It happened quickly. Before he could react, nails embedded themselves into his skin and he was tugged into a sitting position on the floor. The man had all of his weight positioned over him so that he couldn't have budged if he tried. He turned his head to the side and aimed to bite at the man's arm, but his head was re-directed in a firm grip, fingers squeezing his chin so that it would bruise. He found himself looking into grey eyes made of steel.

"You will listen to us and do as we say. There aren't any second chances in this household and you will learn to listen and obey commands the first time you are asked. Otherwise, there are many, many ways in which we could make you obey. Jennifer and Katie Knight are top of that list, do I make myself clear?"

Kendall's mind was buzzing when he heard the names of his mother and sister. He didn't quite know what they meant by them being top of the list, but he didn't really want to find out.

"Considering we had Derek go and visit Katie at her school, I would say we have the power to do much more, don't you think?" the wife added rhetorically, and they both kept their eyes locked with Kendall's until his shoulders slumped with the understanding that his actions could impact on the lives of those he loved. If Derek and his men had chucked him around, then they would definitely be able to rough up Katie and his mom as well.

"Good," the woman stated, back to an overly patronising tone, "now, all you need to know for now is that you should do as we say and then you won't be punished. Good boys get rewards and bad boys do not. We are your Mommy and Daddy and you will call us as such, understand?"

Kendall couldn't give them a response. What were they talking about? Why were they using such childlike language? He couldn't even get his head around it.

But the couple didn't give him a chance to respond, as they got up again and walked towards the door. The woman unlocked it quickly, slipping out of the room whilst the man guarded the entrance. He didn't take his eyes off of Kendall whilst she was gone.

"I suggest you find it in yourself to be a good boy for Mommy and I, Kendall, otherwise we will not be very happy. This is your new life now, and you will learn to love it. Everything in the past is forgotten now."

These people sounded like they were speaking in some sort of cryptic code because this just couldn't be real, it couldn't be. He didn't know what to do or how to get his jaw up off of the floor, but he didn't need to apparently because the wife re-entered then.

"Kendall, sweetheart, we're going to introduce you to someone who will be able to help you understand what's going on and who we know you'll get on with very well."

It was then that Kendall realised there was someone behind her. He couldn't see much because her body was purposely shielding whoever it was, but Kendall didn't like the wide grins upon both the adults' faces. She then brought the person out by the hand into the middle of the room and Kendall gasped.

On his feet were little white socks, coloured green on the end of his toes and on the tips of his heels. The socks were folded neatly over twice at the ankles so that they wouldn't be too long. Around his waist were a pair of blue drawstring shorts that were shorter than the average pair and stopped around the middle of his thighs. These were elasticated for both comfort and flexibility, and also for accessibility when putting them on. These met at the waist with a green and white stripy t-shirt that just reached over to cover his tummy. There was a small pocket on the right with a picture of a cartoon frog sticking its tongue out to amuse any little boy that liked wild animals and those that were funny to look at. Holding her hand was a little boy.

Only…this little boy was almost as tall as him. The little boy facing him had to be slightly younger, but definitely around his age, and his face was familiar as well. He had chestnut brown hair that dangled around his chin, and caramel eyes that were underlined with a hint of purple bags. On his face was a wobbly smile in danger of breaking, and Kendall could tell that he had been told to stand up straight as a rod, because there wasn't any sign of a slouch in his posture at all. He was a little boy in an older boy's body.

"Kendall…meet your little brother, James."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it! What do you think about James? Please leave a comment on what you thought and add this story to your alerts. This is only the beginning of the nightmare to come.**

 **Thank you,**

 **~swagUPwindowsDOWN :) x**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Here's another chapter. Thank you all for your support so far in this story. I have so much fun writing it and it's such a different genre for me to explore. I think you'll all like this one because we meet James! And you'll also get an explanation as to what the couple are doing with their kidnaped children.**

 **Also, because this is a different genre to what I usually write and is focussing on Kendall's point of view, I have entered it from this chapter onwards into the BTR Plot Adoption Forum's Out of Your Comfort Zone challenge. Please go there and check out all the entries.** **topic/153090/162841394/1/#163790532**

 **And of course don't forget to vote!**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

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No one said anything. The silence was suffocatingly tense and clasped like a collar around Kendall's throat, feeling as though it was making it hard for him to breathe.

He stared at the boy and the boy stared back. His mind couldn't even begin to process what he was seeing and he didn't know how to react in the slightest. It was during this silence that the woman decided to make her own exit, letting go of her charge's hand and pushing him forward a little, before slipping out the door like an oil slick in the ocean. Now, Kendall and this boy were alone and he didn't know whether to be more scared now that she had left or braver.

The boy seemed relieved, evident in the way his shoulders dropped and the invisible strings that had been holding his body taught and in position released, making him look less like a threat and more like a normal boy. However, Kendall couldn't tell if the boy was dangerous and therefore he couldn't let his guard down. What if he was working with the couple? Was he as twisted as they were? He was wearing a little kid's outfit for crying out loud! Of course there had to be something crazy about him.

The boy surprised Kendall when he sighed and stepped forwards until he had lessened the distance between them. It looked like he had surprised himself with the move as well, considering he appeared to not know what to do with himself when he got to his destination. Toes scrunched at the soft carpet beneath both of their feet through the rolled socks and he shook his head, making his chestnut locks twirl about his ears.

"They found you, then."

The statement was short and simple, but he didn't sound a bit like Kendall thought he would. There was no cold or harsh tone between layers of sickly sweet phoniness, something that both the man and the woman of the couple held in their voices. He sounded normal, though there was a sense of unwilling defeat that made Kendall shiver.

"W-What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, sceptical that the boy hadn't tried anything on yet and ready to pounce if he were to try anything on.

"We knew it would happen one day...they had been talking about 'completing the family', we just didn't want to see it happen to another one."

The genuine hurt for Kendall's own fate struck a chord within him, and he realised that whatever this boy had to do with their situation, he wasn't going to harm him.

The boy decided then and there to suddenly sit down in his bottom, and Kendall, after worrying his lip between his teeth about what he should do in response, followed him to sit. He didn't fail to notice that whilst his legs stretched out in front of him, the boy's own crossed over like those of a small child sitting on the carpet in a school classroom.

The chestnut-haired boy looked hesitant again, as if he hadn't been expecting himself to do that and was now stuck on what to do, but he cautiously stuck out his hand and directed a word towards Kendall:

"James."

Kendall looked at the outstretched hand, an offering friendship and unity, and though he shook the appendage and felt more at ease with his company, until he found out what the boy's deal was, he would remain careful.

"Kendall."

"I'm sorry, Kendall," James replied almost straight away after learning his name. So many meanings were encapsulated in that one sentence. Sorry that he was here, sorry that he had gone through all that he had. Kendall wondered how he knew what had happened.

"Haven't you got it by now?" James asked, and Kendall realised that he had said that last part out loud. "Kendall...you were taken from your home, kidnapped-"

"Don't you think I know that?" Kendall snapped. He didn't want to be reminded of what had happened, or of what could still be yet to come.

"No, I don't," James replied as he looked into Kendall's eyes for any sort of comprehension, but apparently what he was looking for wasn't quite there. "Don't you recognise me?"

Kendall didn't know what to make of the question, quite frankly. What on earth was he on about? He hadn't met James before in his whole entire life, so why should he recognise him? If he really looked at him, really concentrating, then maybe he might say he had one of those faces that you would remember easily. However, there was something…familiar. He had a feeling he had seen someone like James before, but that was impossible. James had been living here, possibly hundreds of miles away from his own home.

A flash of frustration and rage mixed with a tinge of despair crossed over the brunette's countenance before he carefully schooled his emotions behind a neutral expression. It was gone before one could properly comprehend what it was, and by the time Kendall had decoded it, James was already speaking again.

"Hello, have you seen me? My name is James Diamond and I have been missing since January 21st 2015. I have chestnut hair, am around 5'4 and I am 13 years old. I was wearing a black jacket and blue jeans when I was taken, at 8:03am in central Itasca, Minnesota. If you have any information or think you may have seen me, please ring your local authorities."

Kendall was stunned.

Completely. And. Utterly.

He had thought James had actually gone crazy or something when he had started to speak, but now it all made total sense. James wasn't working with these maniacs in kidnapping and keeping him here. No, he was being kept here himself. He was just like Kendall.

And if he had been here for over a year now, then what did that say for his own chance at escape?

"Now do you get it?" James pressed, a lot more subdued after his big speech. Kendall guessed that the gravity of what he had just said had hit home for James about just how long he had been gone from his family and friends.

"W-what? H-How-?"

James sighed and fiddled with his fingers, twisting and wringing them as it appeared nervousness took hold. He could never rid himself of the memories, and the fear he had felt on that day over a year ago had stayed with him all this time. It always maximised when he thought about that morning, when he couldn't look past what had happened and push it aside any longer. It had been one of the most traumatising moments of his young life and even though the nightmare never ended, before that morning he had never experienced such terror.

"I was on my way to school. I, um, my mom couldn't drop me off that day…she had an early morning meeting so I walked. It-it was normal…for a while…then I was asked for directions by a guy. He-he was acting strange – he was shifty and snappy – so I-I quickly told him and walked away. Only, he didn't go away. I saw him again a few blocks later. It was when he started following me that I knew something was…wrong."

James paused and Kendall couldn't help but think how similar his story seemed to his own. He himself had been stalked and eventually taken, and Kendall had no doubts that the men who took James were the same ones who took him. The brunette chewed on his lip nervously as he gathered up the courage to keep going.

"I t-tried to get to school, but they cornered me in an alley. I tried to escape b-but they-they were too strong. They p-pushed m-me against a f-fence and the l-last t-thing I r-re-remember w-was one p-pushing m-me down on the floor. I-it was s-so c-cold. T-then I w-woke u-up here." James' stuttering had steadily increased as he recounted the events that lead him here, a sign that the fright of that morning had stayed with him, even now.

"Kendall, you have no idea what you have just been placed into." The sudden calmness in James' voice and the complete contrast to the scared tone he had been speaking in caused a shudder to unravel down Kendall's spine. The boy's face had lost all light and a shadowy darkness lingered behind his words. It was like the flip of a switch and Kendall wasn't sure what he was going to hear.

"What do you mean? What's going on?"

James cringed at what he was about to say, his mouth twisting around the words: "Kendall, George and Hillary, the couple out there behind all of this…they're different."

Kendall had figured that out back when he had first seen them. He knew that they weren't normal, this wasn't news to him.

"Well, kidnappers are always different-" he replied, trying to make a joke of the bad situation they were in, but he failed at making even himself laugh, and from the look on James' face, he had done so spectacularly. In fact, if possible, James looked even more uncomfortable as he realised that Kendall was so clueless about his new situation and that he would really have to explain it word for word, something which he would never do for anyone had the circumstances been different.

"They're not just different, they're psychotic, mentally deranged and sociopaths to the most extreme of degrees. I can see you haven't quite gotten it yet, so I'll help you out. On a daily basis, Kendall, I call them Mommy and Daddy."

Kendall suddenly felt like he had been hit in the face by a hockey stick so hard that he was seeing stars. The world around him became dull and there was a faint roaring in his ears that made it sound like a cargo train was passing by in that very room. He felt strangely detached for a minute, and then everything came bursting back at him, his mind rushing around dazedly, so much so that he distinctly felt like he had taken a ride on one of those carousels at a carnival. He couldn't comprehend everything, he couldn't understand anything, but there was one thing that he did know.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

A trashcan appeared in his line of vision and he quickly bent his head to expel copious amounts of stomach acid and bile, as well as whatever he had eaten for his last meal before being taken. Vomit streamed out through his nose as well as his mouth, causing it burn as it did so. He coughed and spluttered as the last remnants of the foul substance exited his body through his oesophagus and he breathed deeply afterwards to rid himself of the nausea.

"I know it's a lot to take in," James commented as he rubbed Kendall's back. He had moved behind the blonde during Kendall's 'episode' and Kendall found the action comforting even though he barely knew the boy, "and I know that that's a huge understatement, but they've only given me 15 minutes with you and I need to make you understand. George and Hillary will treat you like their son, but you won't be treated as your real age. I don't know how young they'll want you to be, but you'll most probably be the oldest. I'm apparently about 'five-years-old," James explained, air quoting his imagined age so Kendall knew he didn't actually believe it.

"How old are you actually?" Kendall asked, because he was certain James had to be around his own age. He couldn't imagine having to act like he was that young.

"I turned 13 four months ago," he replied and blushed as he did. He was obviously embarrassed by the situation and the big change in age. Kendall decided that whilst he had estimated James to be slightly older, the brunette was tall for his age and was still only a year or two younger than him.

"So…you have to act…little?" Kendall questioned, he could hear a few creaks from the floorboards upstairs and he figured that, since there had been no movement for so long, George and Hillary were starting to make their way towards the living room.

James had apparently noticed the noise too, his eyes glancing up at the ceiling, and his voice immediately became heightened and slightly more panicked. The speed at which he spoke also increased, as if he wanted to get as much out as possible because he didn't have enough time to tell Kendall everything.

"Listen, it's not like that. They have ways, ways of making you do what they want to and ways to make you act young because sometimes playing along is the only way to get through this. You question your sanity every day you are here. Even though they may not look very strong, they are. They can be so scary and frightening if you do something wrong, trust me."

"Kendall," he looked right into the blonde's eyes then and Kendall knew that he absolutely had to take everything in because it could be the thing to make or break him whilst he was here. "You have to really try to do as you're told here. You have to try and behave. They'll give you three days to learn the ways of this twisted life, where you won't be punished, but after that you'll be held accountable for everything you do and don't do. You don't want to be punished in any way. You don't want to be punished _at all_."

The footsteps were nearing now, echoing down the hallway. Kendall started to feel a bit panicky despite his resolve to not let this get to him, and he felt his hands start to shake with the beginning tendrils of adrenaline. He had heard the warnings behind James' words, and he understood that he hadn't specified on just what the punishments were because they were nothing he had ever witnessed before, but he also expected they were extremely unpredictable given the couple's sadist nature.

"You need to know that when they get back in here, I won't act the same. Some of it I play along with, but some of it I can't control because of how my brain has adapted to their…treatment. You'll be freaked out, Kendall, but like I said, please follow along, at least as much as you can."

Kendall nodded and they both waited as they heard rustling behind the door. All of a sudden, James turned back to him, his eyes wide with something he had just remembered and he only just managed to voice his thoughts before the door opened again.

"There's others, Kendall. Two others like me, and you'll meet them soon, but you have to understand when you do that they're not all like me, they're a bit more-"

The door flung open before James could finish what he had been saying, and in the space of the doorway stood George and Hillary with big smiles upon their faces. They looked like they had just opened one of the best Christmas presents they had ever received, and the joy in their eyes sickened Kendall immensely. To be happy with what they had done was not normal.

James' transformation was instant. Back came the immaculate posture and his legs, which were already crossed, pressed tightly into place. His arms also folded like he was waiting for a school teacher to tell him what to do, and his lips immediately pressed shut again, anything else he was going to say forgotten amongst the need to please and live up to expectations.

"Hello again, boys. Jamesy, did you tell Kendall about our wonderful little family here? I hope he knows how we work now and is happy that he's been chosen to fill the last gap in our hearts," Hillary and George closed the door behind them and took a seat on the sofa in front of them as she said this.

James nodded and said "yes, Mommy."

Kendall knew it had been coming, but it was still disturbing to hear James use such infantile language out loud.

"Good boy! Why don't you come here and help Mommy and Daddy tell Kendall the rules?"

James never hesitated and shot up right away, walking over to the couch. George patted his knee and James climbed up and onto the man's lap like it was a normal occurrence. It probably was, but it still didn't make it any less wrong.

"Right, Kendall, we have a policy here. You get a few days without any punishment whilst you get used to your new family. We know you have been very big for a long time, but you'll finally be able to actually be your real age now that you're with us. Jamesy, will you tell Kendall one of our rhymes that we like to use?" George asked the brunette.

James nodded. "Three days grace is all you need, then it's punishment to succeed."

Kendall shivered involuntarily.

"Good boy, and what does that mean, buddy?"

"You have to be a good boy and listen to Mommy and Daddy. We don't like bad boys in our house," James replied and Kendall tried to see if there was any hint of hesitance in the boy's eyes, but even if he looked deeply, there was none. James was fully enslaved into this lifestyle, his own safety the bargaining chip to his obedience.

"Exactly, what a clever boy you are," Hillary praised and pinched gently at his cheeks. James barely even flinched. Her eyes then turned back to him and she patted the spot on her knee, adjacent to James. This was his first test, and Kendall battled within his own mind about what to do. Did he follow along for now, or did he refuse?

Reluctantly, Kendall dragged his feet over and gingerly sat on the woman's lap. The harsh flash of anger that he had seen in George's eyes had finally convinced him to listen and play along for now. He would be able to figure out a plan of action later, when he was eventually alone. Whenever that would be.

"Well done, Kenny," great, a pet name for him now too, "you see, little boys do so much better if they listen and behave well. We only want what's best for a little six-year-old like you. And I know you wouldn't want to upset us, would you?"

So, he was six now? Kendall couldn't really remember what is was like to be six, but he didn't want to. He knew that his identity was being stripped away from him, and with that all of his independence as well.

The warning tone was clear to him, even though she was smiling and even though he was punishment free for three days. He nodded, not daring to say anything back to them for fear that he'd blow his chances of being polite and not rude.

"Kendall, when you are addressed you need to reply to us," George said and he felt Hillary's arms squeeze his sides just enough for him to feel uncomfortable.

"No, I wouldn't," he managed to say, not looking at anyone. The carpet was his focus for now, it gave him something else to look at than these monsters.

"Jamesy, tell Kendall what he just left out, please?"

"You have to say Mommy and Daddy's names at the end, Kenny, don't be a rudey pants!" James exclaimed and Kendall looked up to see a smile on his face, but a look of sympathy behind his eyes. James was still there, he was still with him, and he would support him even if he couldn't physically tell him that.

"No, I wouldn't…M-Mommy…D-Daddy."

The words tasted horrid on his tongue and sounded foreign on his lips, but the response was enough to satisfy George and Hillary, as they hugged both the boys to them in hollow embraces. Kendall felt Hillary stroke through his hair and he began to shake as he willed the feeling of hopelessness back into the dark corners of his mind. He could get through this. He had to.

But he couldn't help but wonder how hard that would be.

As he felt another scratchy stroke through his locks, he closed his eyes tightly.

What was he going to do?

XXXXXXXXXX

 **Thank you guys so much for reading! What do you think? Things have gotten quite disturbing.**

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 **Until next time,**

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